the kids are sleeping
a profound peace falls
as i listen to their
rhythmic breathing
all the ills squirming
inside of me mean nothing
as two thirds of my heart
beat a resounding song
of perseverance that fills
the little apartment
with a joy so desperately
missing in the two weeks
of sickly silence shrouding
an impotence of illness

i am a fool yet i see
there is no richness greater
than being surrounded by
the ones you love with
every oxygen depleted cell
so i disregard the discomfort
and let this bounty of riches
wash away the sorrows so
deeply entrenched in my
amateur cartographer’s soul
that had obscured the lines
keeping my stuck in a state
of half transient denials
seeking a home that has been
with me the entire time
three times three
a sleepy poet whispers
a sounding bell to guide
the sparrows back to roost